


The Sweet Serenity of Books (the Sequestered Nooks Remix)

by Framlingem



Category: Batgirl (Comic), Batman (Comics), Birds of Prey (Comic), DCU - Comicverse, Nightwing (Comic)
Genre: Books, Community: remix_redux, F/M, Gifts, Oracle - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-15
Updated: 2012-04-15
Packaged: 2017-11-03 16:32:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/383554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Framlingem/pseuds/Framlingem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five books and assorted other objects people gave Barbara Gordon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sweet Serenity of Books (the Sequestered Nooks Remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Runespoor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Runespoor/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Five books Barbara Gordon put on hold at the library.](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/7878) by Runespoor. 



1\. Babs has been installed in her new place for a day when the half-set-up security systems pings. A quick check of the video screens reveals Alfred, with a pair of packages tucked under one arm and a large box at his feet, waiting patiently near - but not so near as to tip off any observers - one of the tower's backdoors. She lets him in, and waits by the door to her living quarters to greet him with a kiss on the cheek when he finally makes it past the various waypoints she's got in place. 

"I see you're taking some lessons in paranoia, my dear," he says, and places the box in her lap. It's lighter than she expects it to be, despite being more of a very fancy crate than a box. She doesn't recognize the grain on the thin wood and makes a note to look it up later. Whatever it is, it's lovely and delicate, and she places it with care on the living room coffee table. When she turns to ask Alfred what it is, he's not there; she eventually finds him in the kitchen, with one of his packages opened to reveal a delicately-painted teapot and a canister of Assam, and her kettle just starting to heat up.  
"No home should be without a teapot, Miss Barbara."  
"I quite agree, Alfred."  
"The teapot and tea are from me. The other package and the box are housewarming presents from Master Bruce. He'd have come himself, but, well. Business calls."

Of course it does. The work never goes away, and Bruce has never been able to turn a blind eye. _Says the woman who's moved into her high-tech office so that she can always be on call_ , she thinks, and chuckles. Alfred raises an eyebrow. "Sorry, Alfred. I just had a thought." The package contains a large hardcover book about tropical slipper orchids, with the cover proclaiming it to be for "serious hobbyists and professionals alike!". Inside it she finds maps, photographs, charts, sunlight descriptions. It's a gorgeous book, but she's a little confused.  
"Alfred... Bruce does know that I don't have any plants, right?"  
"He does." The kettle has just come to a boil, and Alfred pours the water over the leaves. The tea smells smoky. "If you would lead the way, Miss Barbara, I believe you would find the answer in your sitting room." 

The box, it turns out, has a hinged side which swings open to reveal a slender white orchid; its pouch is a creamy pink, and its petals twist elegantly downwards. She touches it gently.  
" _Paphiopedilum dianthum_ , Miss Barbara. They grow in high places; Master Bruce thought it appropriate. If I may suggest, an East-facing windowsill would be just the thing."

The East-Facing windowsill is indeed just the thing. The orchid grows and is joined by several more mundane Phalaenopsis varieties from the grocery store, and she keeps it going through several Gotham Specialty Disasters. When it does finally die, it's at her own hand, sliced desperately apart with a knife as it tries to strangle her, the ungrateful plant. She never quite forgives Ivy.

 

2\. A book without any name attached arrives in the mail just before Christmas. There is no return address, but it's postmarked from Dubai. It's clumsily-wrapped, as though the sender is not used to wrapping gifts; there's a bit of a gap at one end, and too much paper at the other, but the ribbon tied around it is expertly-tied. So much so, in fact, that she has to get a knife to get it off. It's a book of fairy tales, with a page marked with a black feather so that it falls open easily to Hans Christian Anderson's story about the mermaid, the lovely girl with no voice who gains a soul. Her fingers drift across the cover.

 

3\. Stephanie shows up at one point with a copy of _The Gardener's Weed Book: Earth-Safe Controls _, by Barbara Pleasant. When Babs opens it, she finds that Steph has scrawled something illegibly on the flyleaf.__  
"We have got to work on your penmanship, Batgirl," she says drily. Stephanie grins unrepentantly and wanders over to the fridge, leaving Babs to hold the book sideways and squint. Further examination reveals that the inscription reads, "At least she can't get mad about your pest-control methods, right? ♥ STEPH PS: HAPPY BIRTHDAY FOR WHENEVER". 

A week later, a box from eBay user "90skitsch" shows up. Buried in packing peanuts is a plastic plant with sunglasses on and a red electric guitar. She laughs, and it reacts to the noise by dancing back and forth and bursting into a staticy rendition of "Never Gonna Give You Up". There's a note from the eBay seller saying "the buyer said to tell you this is a way safer bet. Whatever that means. Enjoy!" She gives it pride of place next to the teapot in the kitchen.

 

4\. Tim's more subtle than Steph, always has been. They've been working together for a couple of years when he shows up at her birthday party.

Well. He doesn't exactly show up. It's a party her dad's throwing at the local cop bar, and even if she knows he's got several fake IDs that would prove him to be legal - mostly because she made them, and they're damn good - the place is full of people who are both the type to wonder why some strange kid is giving her a birthday present and who are very good investigators. He lets her catch sight of him through a window, and he's in the back alley half an hour later when she refuses one of Harvey's cigars for the umpteenth time and ducks outside for some fresh air. He passes her an envelope, smiles at her, and saunters off, just another kid with a hoodie and backpack out for a walk on a warm fall evening. She sneaks it into the heap on the bar until it's time to open her gifts. When she's dug her way through the awful gag gifts that constitute cop humor, she pretends she doesn't know who it's from, and opens it to calls of "Secret admirer, huh Barbara?" ("Can't be you, Bullock, the Chief's daughter's way out of your league." "Aww, Montoya. That hurts.") 

It's an old magazine, a back-issue of OMNI, dated July 1982. It's signed. "It was hot, the night we burned Chrome. - W. Gibson." When she gets home, she puts it carefully on the top shelf of her bookcase, next to a book of fairy tales, where she can keep an eye on both of them.

 

5\. Dick swings in through the window. One day, she vows, she'll teach him about doors, but it's been a long week and the sight of him in his Nightwing costume, dripping wet, with his hair falling into his eyes, is frankly therapeutic and worth the annoyance of having to go over her security system to find out how he keeps getting in. Again. Never let it be said that she doesn't appreciate a fine work of art. Or dimples. 

The fine work of art is making puddles on her floor, though. She sighs.

"Grab a towel, Boy Wonder. You're making me feel damp."  
"But Babs, I've gotta show you something!"  
"Sure. I can't wait. Towel first."  
"I'm not _that_ wet, really..."  
He's headed for her laptop when she beans him over the head with an expertly-thrown cushion. "Hey! You'll short it out. No water on the electronics. Towels are in the bathroom, go."

The sight of him coming back out of the bathroom, towelling his hair? That's also therapeutic. He catches her staring and smirks just a little. She channels Diniah and leers harder, and he blushes. Ha. "So, did you just come to show off your muscles, or did you have something else you wanted me to see?"  
"Oh! Right!"  
He scoots over and sprawls across her couch, hooking the laptop off the coffee table. She tries to see, but he turns the screen away, looking immensely pleased with himself about something he's typing in. After an interminable few seconds, he hands the laptop over to her, so that she can see a private PDF, which looks like a manuscript.

 _Adaptive Acrobatics_ , by R. Grayson, with illustrations by K. Rayner and photographs by D. Troy. She's speechless.

Dick's bouncing slows down, and his forehead creases with worry. "I, er. What do you think? I've been doing some volunteer work at a gym, and there's this kid there who reminds me a lot of you, Carlie, seriously, you should meet her, she's _so_ awesome, and I've been thinking about it anyway, and Superman put me in touch with Green Lantern, I think he was pretty stoked to have an art commission as a break from whatever he does out there on Oa, and Carlie let me try stuff out with her and Donna took pictures, and well, I wanted you to see it first. Before I publish it. Because you know more than anyone I know, but I couldn't tell you before because I wanted it to be a surprise... Babs?"

"Dick."  
"...yes?"  
"Shut up."

It's not as easy to dive into his lap and shut him up with a kiss as it was before the wheelchair, but she manages.


End file.
